


Œdipus Negative

by Nyanoka



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Abuse of trust, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Touch, Canon ages, Dubious Consent, First Time, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Incredibly Mild Daddy Kink, M/M, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyanoka/pseuds/Nyanoka
Summary: When Piers offers to teach him about "adult things," Victor accepts without hesitation. He trusts him after all.
Relationships: Masaru | Victor/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Œdipus Negative

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm behind on my darkfic quota, so here this is. It's not super "traditionally dark" in most senses, but I didn't want something overt or overly "on the nose" hence why this is given from Victor's view. He's young. He's going to see things with a "rosy lens." I was really close to tagging "Dead Dove: Do not Eat," but eh...I didn't think it was dark enough. And I do enough POVS from Piers anyway, so I decided to flip to Victor's. It's more fun that way.
> 
> This was also jumped ahead on my writing "to-do" list because of Twitter discourse tbh. If Twitter doesn't like the characters being aged up then I guess I have to write them with their "canon" ages. Well as close as I can get anyway, most Pokemon protagonists outside of BW and XY are really young while I assume Piers is like 24. This dates the fic a bit, but whatever, we have that discourse like 50 times a week on Twitter. Had to put my "cutesy aged-up courtship fluff" piece on hold for this.
> 
> Though like much of what I write, I cannot simply write with the intent to simply titillate or to "shock" (though you're free to interpret the work as simply that if you wish; I don't care for complete "authorial intent" interpretations). I prefer to layer my works.
> 
> Also yes, it's intentional how awkward Victor can be alongside the "cliches."

“Quiet down a bit, Victor. Marnie’s sleepin’ in the other room. We don’t want to wake her, right?”

Victor gives a slight nod of his head. He couldn’t quite speak, not with Piers’s fingers currently slipped into his mouth and the pads of his fingers pressing against the inside of his cheeks and upon his tongue.

“Good boy.”

Victor feels Piers’s knee shift between his legs before pressing against his groin, eliciting a light groan, and his other hand against the small of his back, fingers moving underneath the waistband of his shorts, just enough to lift the elastic slightly.

They’re almost sitting really—Piers on his bed and Victor half-balanced on the man’s knee and his hands upon Piers’s bare shoulders. It’s an awkward sort of position—he’s not sure how Piers’s legs hadn’t grown numb yet—but he’s not going to voice his thoughts.

It’s hot tonight—overly muggy according to the morning’s weather forecast—and Victor almost wishes that they had turned on the fan before this, but still, he’s not particularly inclined to moving away to turn it on or to asking Piers to.

Another shift of his knee brings another groan, and he feels Piers’s fingers, the ones in his mouth, move—nails grazing against his teeth and calloused skin pushing lightly against his tongue. They’re not deep enough inside his mouth to make him gag, but they’re not a non-presence either.

Instead, Victor finds it hard to concentrate—hard to think—with them in his mouth and with the way his stomach tightens, warm and tingling. It’s not a feeling Victor’s all too familiar with in any capacity, but he assumes that it’s simply another part of those “adult things” that Piers had offered to teach him about.

Though, he isn’t _that_ stupid or naive. He knows what Piers means by “adult things.” Well, sorta anyway. He knows it’s sex. He’s just not quite sure _what_ that entails. He knows enough about it from the educational videos they had in health class, something about procreation and condoms. He knows that it’s usually something done between boys and girls but not much else.

He knows enough he thinks. He’s not missing anything—nothing important anyway.

He also remembers that his mom had warned him against strangers and “bad touching” two years prior, just before he had left Postwick.

She had been explicit in that, having pulled him aside an hour after they had returned from Hop’s.

“Don’t let anyone see or touch you here.” She had pointed downward then. “Remember, if your clothes cover it, no one else has the right to see. You need to say ‘no’ if someone asks. Find a policeman afterwards too. Of course, your Pokémon will be with you but still”—she sighs—"I worry. I can’t always be with you, but I’m your mother. These sorts of things will always concern me.”

He remembers her warnings of course, but still, she couldn’t always be right. She’s been wrong before.

He’s twelve now. That’s old enough to make decisions by himself he thinks. Besides, Piers isn’t a stranger. He’s someone he knows.

He’s Marnie’s older brother, and Victor’s seen them together enough. He’s kind and patient if a bit moody at times. Victor knows Piers well enough. He wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt or scar him. He thinks so anyway.

He’s not that sort of person.

Victor feels a finger press upward against a molar before Piers speaks again. He feels the fingers of his other hand press against the skin underneath his waistband, rubbing small circles into the flesh.

It makes him shiver, agitates him in a way he doesn’t really understand.

But still, it feels good, so it couldn’t be bad. His mom hadn’t said it would feel good.

“Try grindin’ down against my knee,” Piers says. It’s more of a whisper than a command, but Victor complies anyway. Piers hasn’t given him reason to doubt after all.

He’s a bit noisier than he’d like to be, but it’s not like he’d been expecting that sort of feeling.

It’s good, really good, great even. His motions are a bit jerky—he couldn’t move as much as he’d like, not with the way Piers's arm rests upon his back and the hand upon him—but Piers doesn’t seem to mind all too much. Victor hears the way Piers breaths, quickened and similarly excited.

He’s careful not to bite down upon Piers’s fingers even when he begins sucking on them, pink tongue swirling around the digits and saliva dribbling from the corner of his lip. Piers hadn’t asked him to, but Victor does so anyway.

He likes the way his actions cause Piers’s breath to quicken and the way that he looks at him—eyes half-lidded and emotions indescribable with his current vocabulary. He wants to keep it that way, to keep that peculiar gaze on him and only him.

Victor only stills when he feels a slight pressure on his back and a slight pull upon his shorts, just enough to remind him of their current position.

“I’m gonna pull them down. Is that all right with you, Victor?”

Soft, soothing, and alluring.

Victor remembers his mom’s words then, and a hint of hesitation enters his mind, but he quickly dispels it. Piers had asked, and he hasn’t done anything harmful so far. There’s no need to worry or to overthink. That’s what he believes.

Besides, it’s not like his mom is here now to tell him otherwise.

Brushing away his worries once more, Victor nods, mouth still full.

It’s a quick sort of motion when Piers pulls both his shorts and boxers down, and the air meets his now bare skin. It’s an odd sensation, a paradoxical mix of cold and warm, and it makes Victor shudder.

He’s embarrassed. His penis—that’s the technical term he learned in class—is sticking up and firm, dripping a white substance akin to a thick milk. He knows the hardness is a normal thing. His mom had explained that to him years before when she had bathed him and the same occurrence, sans semen, had happened.

But still, Piers doesn’t seem to mind this all too much either even as it drips onto his pants and the sheets, dirtying them.

Instead, he feels the weight on his back lift, and Piers’s finger leave his mouth, saliva trailing from his mouth to the tips of his fingers before it finally separates.

When Piers speaks, it’s another question, a near-murmur.

“I’m goin’ to touch you. That’s fine, right Victor? You’re doin’ really well so far.”

It’s a soft, patient sort of question and affirmation, but still, it makes Victor shiver, and his penis leak more.

Embarrassing. He’s truly embarrassed, but still, he has to say something. He doesn’t want to disappoint Piers, not after everything so far. He doesn’t want to be a child in his eyes.

“O-okay.” His voice is weak, more hesitant than he wants it to be, but Piers nods anyway.

And Victor feels a wet hand move, sliding up his thigh before settling on his groin.

When Piers’s fingers grasp around his penis, he couldn’t quite stop the noise that leaves his throat. It’s a bit gross to feel his own spit on his genitals, but everything else is fine, better than fine even.

He’s panting, and he’s warm—too warm now—when Piers’s hand starts to move, languid and loosely gripping. Victor feels his nails dig into Piers’s shoulders—they’ll probably leave marks in the morning—but Piers doesn’t say anything.

Another noise, but thankfully, Piers doesn’t reprimand him for this either. Instead, he brings a finger in front of lips, shushing.

“I’m goin’ to lift your shirt now, alright? Can I touch you there?”

Victor nods again, face flushed. He doesn’t trust himself to speak coherently.

Still, it is a rather silly thing to ask about considering where Piers is touching now, but he appreciates the sentiment anyway.

Piers’s free hand moves to the hem of his shirt, fiddling with the edges idly, before raising it up to his collarbone. He expects Piers’s hand to release the cloth then—he had asked to touch him after all—but instead, Victor finds a mouth upon his nipple, lightly sucking, and a warm tongue swirling.

Victor bites his lip, a half-whimper escaping. He wants to be noisy, but he doesn’t particularly want to wake Marnie up. It’d be awkward Victor thinks. Piers had locked his door before this, but he probably wouldn’t be explain away the noise. It’s too high-pitched and boyish to be Piers’s.

He feels Piers’s tongue swirl once more and the nip of teeth against the sensitive nub before his mouth lifts and moves to his other nipple. Just as swiftly, Piers’s hand, the one that had been holding his shirt, trails down to where his mouth had been.

Involuntarily, another gasp leaves his mouth as Piers pinches the nipple between his thumb and index finger. It’s not a forceful enough movement to draw blood or to break the skin, but his nipple is puffy—pink, protruding, and overly sensitive.

It isn’t an action Victor dislikes—it’s more the opposite really—but still, he feels a pressure building within his stomach, akin to the feeling of needing to pee.

He doesn’t want to leave—it’s awkward and embarrassing, more so than everything else anyway—but he doesn’t want to accidently pee either. The pressure in his stomach is getting worse—swelling, tightening, and overly hot.

He doesn’t want to disappoint Piers, but it would be worse to disappoint him _and_ embarrass himself.

“Piers? I n-need to”—another gasp leaves his mouth as Piers tugs particularly hard—“pee really bad.”

Another tug on his penis, and Victor feels Piers’s tongue press against the opening of his nipple and another pinch on his the other one, pulling ever so slightly on the swollen skin.

It’s hard—really hard—not to pee.

“P-Piers?” Victor begins again. “I-I’m sorry, but I really do, a-an—”

Another noise escapes him then as Piers pushes his knee upward again, grinding gently against the exposed flesh of his thighs and against his groin.

It’s hot, overwhelmingly hot, and Victor couldn’t quite help himself any longer, not with the way Piers moves against him.

He pees.

However, to his surprise, it’s a squirt of white that leaves his penis instead, not pee.

He feels Piers’s hands leave his body, and the warmth of his mouth leaves, exposing his swollen nipple to the cold.

“See?” Piers says. “It’s fine.”

He shows his hand, wet with a mixture of spit, sweat, and semen.

Victor nods, both embarrassed and tired. He almost expects to doze off then. He’s rather sleepy now after everything, but Piers speaks again before he could drift off.

“Do you want to try one more adult thing? It’s fine if you don’t, but I thought I’d ask.”

He’s tired, and he almost wants to say no on a whim, but he notices the way Piers look at him—peering, expectant, and odd. He feels another stir in his stomach then at Piers’s gaze.

It couldn’t be all too bad he thinks. Everything else had been really good, and his mom had been wrong.

So, Victor nods.

“It’ll hurt a bit at first. Are you fine with that, Victor? You’re doing really well, but I don’t wanna push you.”

Another stir in his stomach—heady and pleasant—and Victor nods again. He’s not particularly inclined to the idea of pain, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to decline, not with the way Piers looks at him and the way he feels, warm and loved.

“Good”—Piers reaches over with his clean hand and ruffles Victor’s hair—“You’ve been a really good boy so far. Don’t forget that, alright?”

Victor doesn’t mean to, but a small noise, wheezing and almost-breathless, leaves his mouth. Piers’s words aren’t bad, but they, alongside the fingers in his hair, make him feel weird, breathless and wanting. Wanting of _what_ , Victor isn’t quite sure.

“C-can you call me that again, please?”

Much like the noise, the question leaves his mouth without thought, and Victor flushes. It’s a weird question, even he knows that, but still, Piers doesn’t tease him for it.

Instead, he merely replies, voice low and strange, tinged with something Victor couldn’t quite recognize.

“Alright”—the fingers leave his hair before settling lightly on his shoulder—“Can you get on the bed and turn over for me, Victor? I need to do somethin’ so it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Victor nods again before complying. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He doesn’t think he would be able to, not without stuttering too much anyway.

It’s a bit of an uncomfortable position, not because of the quality of the mattress or the sheets, but because of how his penis, now half-hard again, pushes against the bed and how his face presses against one of the pillows.

It certainly doesn’t help that his nipples are still sensitive.

He hears the sound of a drawer opening, the sound of rummaging, and then the pop of a cap, the pull of a zipper, and the tearing of foil before he feels a hand on his butt, gently spreading the cheeks and wet fingers probing at the entrance.

There is a sense of nervousness that pervades him—his health class hadn’t really gone in-depth when it came to these particular matters—but still, he trusts Piers.

He wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.

Victor hears a small warning from Piers before he feels his fingers press forward and into his body. It’s a weird feeling—overly cold and a bit runny from the liquid coating his fingers—but Victor refrains commenting. He doesn’t want to be childish.

Though, he couldn’t quite control the moan that emanates from his throat, only half-muffled by the pillow. It’s weird. The idea of Piers touching him there is weird—weirder than before anyway—but still, it’s not an entirely unpleasant experience. It’s even pleasant in a way, once he got used to the coldness of the lube and to the way Piers’s fingers stretch him.

It’s not overly rough, and his nails don’t scrape painfully against the warm walls.

But still, it doesn’t stop the noise, high and whining, from leaving his throat when he feels Piers’s fingers press against a particular spot or the way his body shakes, squirming. Even with the pillow, his voice is a bit loud.

Victor feels a hand run through his hair, soft and kind.

“Careful. Marnie’s a bit of a heavy sleeper, but she’s not deaf.” It’s a low, almost vibrating murmur, but still, it sends a shiver through his spine.

He feels Piers’s hand comb through his hair again and his fingers moving inside him.

It’s strange how Piers makes him feel, but still, Victor couldn’t quite help but groan when his fingers leave him.

“You’re doing really well. Such a good boy.” Another caress of his hair, and Victor shivers once more. He’s hot again—hotter than before anyway—and his penis is fully hard again, pressing uncomfortably into the bed.

Victor feels something hard press against the entrance of his butt, and he hears Piers speak again, voice soothing still.

“It’ll hurt a bit at first, but you can bear it, right?” Victor feels Piers’s hand run through his hair again, fingers caressing the scalp and gently untangling sweaty hair.

“Y-yeah.” His response is quiet, but still, he feels Piers shift before a length presses into him.

Victor couldn’t quite help himself then, even with Piers’s prior warning. He screams, noise half-smothered by the pillow. It’s a painfully foreign sensation, one that he couldn’t lessen even as his arms wrap around the pillow—nails digging into the soft fabric.

He feels Piers still, and his fingers once again combing through his hair.

“Relax, Victor. It’ll hurt a bit less if you do.”

Another noise leaves him then—he feels tears beginning to form—but he nods again anyway. Piers wouldn’t be able to see the motion, but he would feel it through his fingertips.

He doesn’t want to disappoint, and he finds himself biting into the pillow—panting—when Piers begins moving once more.

It doesn’t hurt as much this time, but still, it’s only by a little bit. It’s weird, painful, how Piers presses into him and how he feels himself stretching. It’s different from his fingers. Those had been slender, slick and probing and a bit strange, but they hadn’t hurt.

Finally, he feels Piers stop and the press of flesh against his trembling backside.

“Doin’ okay so far, Victor? I’ll be movin’ again soon.”

Another nod from Victor, and Piers begins moving again.

Piers’s movements are uncomfortable, overly slow, and Victor feels himself shaking, body clenching around him and a bit of drool pooling on the pillow. It’s embarrassing how much he trembles, but Victor couldn’t quite do anything about it. It’s involuntary, uncontrollable, no matter how much his nails dig into the pillow. It doesn't particularly help either how his nipples slide against the white sheets with each of Piers’s thrusts.

But still, the discomfort gradually decreases before being replaced with a pleasurable heat, coiling in his stomach much like before when Piers had touched him—hand upon his penis and mouth upon his nipple.

He’s noisy again when Piers thrusts against him, hitting that strange spot once more.

Despite the initial discomfort, it’s good, really good. He’s glad that he hadn’t said no.

Victor feels Piers remove his hand from his hair and lean forward, pressing his body against Victor’s own. Piers is taller, bigger, than Victor is, and heavier, but he’s careful not to put his full weight onto him.

Victor only feels how Piers’s breath lingers on his skin and how his tongue licks at the back of his ear. He feels his hand, slender yet much larger than his own, press against his side and fingers tracing against the skin.

His breath is warm as he speaks, soft yet piercing and entirely too hot, “You’re such a good boy for lettin’ me do this with you. This is your first time, right? You’re doin’ really well so far.”

Piers’s words elicit another shudder from Victor, and the warmth pools in his stomach, tightening and searing. It’s hard for him not to release immediately again, but he doesn’t want to be too early.

He doesn’t think this is one of those activities where finishing first is good.

Another noise leaves his mouth as Piers thrusts again, hitting that spot once more.

“You’re really cute, Victor.” His voice is breathy—quickened—and makes him want to please Piers even more. Piers’s current state is his doing after all. There’s a certain, almost childish pride he takes in that.

Another thrust, and Victor moans. He doesn’t think he could hold on for much longer. He just doesn’t have quite the same stamina as Piers does. He feels Piers quicken his pace, and a hand roaming at his side before slipping underneath and to his chest and one of nipples before twisting it lightly.

It’s too much really, especially after their previous activities, and Victor, much to his own disdain, feels the now-familiar curl in his stomach, and he releases, face still pressed into the pillow.

Victor feels Piers continue to move—he doesn’t mind all too much really; it still feels really good—before finally releasing himself. He feels another shift as Piers pulls out and sits up and eventually hands on his shoulders as Piers rolls him over and pulls him upward and back onto his lap.

They’re dirty—sweaty and sticky—but Victor doesn’t care all too much about it. He’s felt and looked worse after his own expeditions into the Wild Area.

Though, he is sleepy again, excitement having partially worn off, but he shakes it off.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s another odd question from Piers, especially after everything, but Victor nods again, a bit too eager. He doesn't mind anyway. He likes being asked.

The kiss is much like the one Victor sees on television, brisk yet warm, and he feels Piers comb a hand through his hair again.

It is a sweet—nice—sort of gesture even as they separate once more.

Victor is the first to speak again. As awkward as he knows his question is, he doesn’t particularly want to lose courage, not before he gets it out.

“I-can we do this again some time? I-I mean if you want to and have time of course.”

He notices a flash of surprise in Piers’s eyes, but it quickly disappears.

“If you want to. Just don’t tell anyone, alright?”

Victor shakes his head. He understands the implications of Piers’s words.

“I won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think the relationship continues into adulthood and marriage because there's no magic "this is/was bad" moment. And I guess they'll be on more "equal" grounds by then so slightly less "shady." "Perfect" endings or resolved conflict bores me honestly. A bit romanticized perhaps, but in this particular case, I prefer that. I'm not writing didactic fiction after all.
> 
> Cut scenes and ideas: more explicit daddy kink, Victor being more of a child to juxtapose everything (that pillow was going to be a stuffed animal plush for example), location was going to be Victor's room while his mother's out, bareback sex, a much more explicit and detailed kiss
> 
> Themes: Predatory, Taboo, Trust, Youth, Control
> 
> You can also see I went with a mix of the clinical and almost "colloquial" when it comes to description. It's intentionally since it's given from Victor's view, and his knowledge comes from class textbooks and all. Similarly, that's why the description is as it is.
> 
> Also today is Easter coincidentally when this is going up. So happy coincidence?


End file.
